Speechless.

Begs the Question

Yesterday a dear friend of mine happened to be driving through town, and we decided to catch a film together. We saw Robert Redford's new movie 'The Conspirator,' the story of the assassination of Abraham Lincoln and more specifically, the trial and execution of Mary Surratt. The film is spectacular, both thought-provoking and visually stunning with incredible cinematography. I love that it at least appears as though Redford used mostly natural light, and allowed the firelight from the candles and torches to blur and distort the way they naturally would on film. Also, the script was so nuanced and wonderful. Its speech was era-appropriate, more formalized than our speech is today, but not distracting or "antiquated." The actors all did a marvelous job with it; it was nice to see a good story told with good acting, simply and excellently--no explosions or car chases required.



But a line in the film made me wonder: is the assassination of Abraham Lincoln still the single greatest tragic and traumatic event in American history? Do we consider it separate from such horrific events as Pearl Harbor and September 11th because they are foreign nations/organizations attacking the U.S. Government? Or do we consider John Wilkes Booth and his conspirators a foreign organization because they affiliated themselves with the Confederate States of America?

It's so easy to distance ourselves from historical events. Untold horrors that emotionally and physically scarred our ancestors become words on a pages, mere statistics and pie charts. Good historians and, yes, good filmmakers work hard to remind us that these events were as real and as shocking to those living through them as ours are to us. America had been torn in half, with whole families slaughtered and farms destroyed.  Southern cities, in particular Richmond and Atlanta, were razed to the ground. An entire race had suddenly, wonderfully, been set free from legal bondage . . . but with little preparation for it, no real homes, and an unimaginable sense of uncertainty because surely they realized that emancipation on a piece of paper signed by one man does nothing to change the hearts of men. Soldiers returned home with what body parts they had left to them, having seen unspeakable horrors, people attempted to rebuild. And then the guiding light of the nation, that rallied the Union together, sought justice, and pieced together what was broken, was ripped away from a nation in one night. A nation that needed something positive to cling to. 

The assassination of Abraham Lincoln sent an already reeling nation into turmoil, and the film captures this so perfectly. This is the sort of tone and handling a historical event should have on film. 


**I can't embed the videos but anyone interested should check out the film's page on Youtube. It has some very interesting featurettes.

From the Bookshelves to Cinema

The Help, by Kathryn Stockett

get excited, people.

video from Clevvermovies

Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise

Other than loving the song, the title is rather apt right now.

I'm making some pretty major decisions right now. One's that will without a doubt affect the rest of my life, in one way or another. And that's a heady realization, my friends. But it will be good. I think.

Anyway, I got back from England on Friday (a day later than intended, thanks to a canceled flight*) and as much as I enjoy my job(s) and enjoy being at home with my family, I already miss it horribly. 

I'm aware that England is not without its own set of problems, but they have a lifestyle that I find so appealing. First, I can walk anywhere in Oxford or London. On my last full day in London I walked from Kensington to the West End. Granted, it took me two hours and is not how I would recommend traveling to work, school, whatever. But I certainly saw the city, and passed by a great many interesting things. I just wish I were more comfortable about whipping out my little point-and-shoot to capture it (and that I were more satisfied with the results when I do). 

Oxford is always wonderful, particularly when I share it with my wonderful friend that I stayed with. She's in Oxford getting her master's in Modern Chinese Studies, and is very brilliant. Also, joy of joys, she just discovered that she's been accepted to another program and will be staying another year! Oh, the opportunities!

I spent a lot of my time in Oxford the same way I did when I studied there. Reading, annotating, only this time with copious amounts of toast and tea (Eliot would be so proud). But we made sure to eat at our favorite spots, try some new ones, and visit my favorite places otherwise known as bookstores.

But going back to that whole "first" thing (which indicates a serial, don't you know), the food is fresh and organic whether you like it or not. Cooking at my friend's home meant fresh chicken fajitas, fried rice, glazed salmon and breakfasts of fried eggs on toast with salami and gouda cheese. It's enough to make a girl cry, I tell you (especially when she pulled out the homemade strawberry meringues!) 

And tea . . . I love that England (some, I know not all) take the time for tea. An hour to just sit, or just talk, or just read, and enjoy a moment to yourself in your workday or studyday . . . there's nothing quite like steam rising out of a nice big mug, or that wonderful caramel-colored swirl of milk right before you give your black tea its final stir. Particularly paired with a good book.

Good friends, good food, good architecture, good art, good books, good travel . . . .

*they said it was mechanical issues, in which case I say, please, cancel away. I'd rather spend another day in Oxford than drop out of the sky.

photos are my own, please e-mail me before reposting

This is a motto I can get behind.

source: where is the coool via a well traveled woman

A Girl Who Reads

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

—Rosemary Urquico

  via cult classic, not bestseller via ladflow source: grindlebone

source: imgfave via pinterest

Morning Covers- Heart in a Cage

source: topher489

source: cozza84

I love mandolins (and honestly rather like Chris Thile/the Punch Brothers' version better)

I wish I had mojo hair . . .

from BillboardMagazine and GracePotterVevo, respectively.

London (from my window)

A distant cousin of the Whomping Willow, and the Victoria & Albert

Things Every London Girl Has (that I need)

-A cute/functional scarf

Source: Dear June on etsy

           -the weather changes at the drop of a hat, and what might be a pleasant day pre-rain, might just be chilly and damp post-rain (like today). A cute cotton scarf like this one from etsy is functional, but can be rolled up and thrown in your bag when you don't need it.

-an umbrella

source: Raindrops

           - I know many would argue for a functional black umbrella, but I like a witty little something to my looks, so I really want this one.

-cute, sturdy shoes that aren't sneakers.

 

          - I've seen some chucks around, but I'm pretty sure that well-made leather shoes are the only thing that stand a chance against all the walking I'll be doing. I'm loving these heels, and need to find flats.

source: Seychelles

 I'm having a fantastic time in London, though I don't have any pictures to prove it because I feel like such a damn tourist** with my dinky little point and shoot digital (it's a wonderful point and shoot, and in fact it's very compact and useful because I can throw it in my purse and just go . . . but I feel silly)


** NOT that there's anything wrong with being a damn tourist or taking pictures anywhere with any camera that you have. I wish I COULD take more pictures no matter where I am. I just feel very silly and self-conscious because I don't know what I'm doing. Hopefully I'll get over this. I'm determined to take more pictures in Oxford (I'm heading off for Oxford in just about an hour!)